


Take Me High and I'll Sing

by Courtanie



Category: South Park
Genre: Domestic Violence, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Minor Violence, Sexual Content
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-27
Updated: 2017-04-27
Packaged: 2018-10-24 17:38:11
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 19,170
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10746579
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Courtanie/pseuds/Courtanie
Summary: For far too many years Kyle has watched Kenny slipping in and out of his heroic persona, wondering each night if it would be their last together. But when it's his needs stacked against the safety of the rest of their town, finding common ground is far more difficult than either of them could have accounted for.





	Take Me High and I'll Sing

After a string of late night drunken phone calls from Stan, rampages of furious texts from Cartman, and more than a handful of _risqué_ pictures via Kenny, Kyle had declared a rule: Do as they would until eleven. After that, unless it was an emergency, they were to stay the fuck away from contacting him until eight a.m. the next morning. The demand hadn't been taken seriously until they decided one fateful Tuesday night at Cartman's house to test his patience and start a teasing group chat at two a.m. with Kyle in the mix, sending messages left and right one after the other. They said nothing but how Kyle should come over and hang out as well, that school wasn't important enough to avoid getting plastered with his best buddies. Peer pressure, his mother would no doubt have declared had she seen the taunts.

Granted, he was _more_ than glad his mother hadn't paid witness to said messages after Kenny went off on a tangent of withholding sex if he didn't get up and get over to the house. And Stan and Cartman's responding disgust when they were sitting not two feet away from him on the damn couch.

It'd taken twenty minutes before there was a thunderous beating on Cartman's door, Kenny getting up with a victorious grin and opening the barrier to a strung-out Kyle in his pajamas and a jacket barely up both shoulders. Kenny and Stan had known exactly what to do at the telltale expression, seeing his teeth gritted, his hair disheveled from disturbed slumber and the way that hands stained with ink from note-taking clenched: They ran. As they jumped over the couch, putting that edge of distance between them, Kyle's fury had redirected towards defenseless Cartman shoving fingerfuls of Doritos down his gob.

" _Bout goddamn time, Jew_ ," he'd drawled, flicking Cool Ranch seasonings in his general direction. _"Just for making us wait,_ you _can hit the store to go pick up more beer."_

Kyle had forced himself to breathe, vision edging with darkness as he held it in in his rage. _"Whose. Idea. Was it?"_ he'd spat, looking at Kenny and Stan who immediately gestured to Cartman, knowing well enough that this level of anger didn't save even the boyfriend and best friend from the impending wrath. Kyle had no hesitation, walking straight up and towering over the man perched on the couch. The moment chip-stained lips parted to make a snide remark, a fist clocked down against his nose. While Cartman writhed and screamed about suing his skinny ass, Kyle had snagged Cartman's phone from the coffee table, eyes landing on the two cowering behind the sofa. They barely avoided the device as they jumped aside, both flinching as it smashed into the wall and watching as it fell onto the carpeting in three pieces.

" _Kyle, we're fucking sorry!"_ Stan had pleaded, he and Kenny holding their hands up in surrender. _"Calm down!"_

" _I have_ _ **midterms**_ _tomorrow, you fucks!"_ he'd screeched. _"What did I fucking tell you fuckers?!"_

" _Ky, Babe,"_ Kenny tried to coo, wincing as his anger was directed towards him, such a rarity it scared him shitless.

Kyle had pointed at him with a shaking finger, _"I'm angriest at_ _ **you**_ _, Buddy._ _ **You**_ _should fucking know better! So I suggest you shut your fucking mouth before_ mine _is shut_ _ **forever**_ _,"_ he hissed.

" _Good,"_ Cartman had scoffed, shoving Kyle aside and getting to his feet while holding his cheek, glaring down at him. _"Sick of your whining anyway_."

Stan had pinched his nose and groaned, _"Not for_ talking, _you fucking moron. Don't encourage a_ discussion _on it."_

Kyle had just rolled his eyes, taking a long, angry breath. _"None of you talk to me for the rest of the week,"_ he'd finished, turning without another word and slamming the door behind him, all of them flinching at a hung picture next to the frame falling onto the end-table and glass caked with dust shattering on impact.

They'd taken the warning to heart after that display, Kenny and Stan coming up to his house bright and early on Sunday meekly asking for forgiveness and promising to respect his wishes if he'd talk to them again. Cartman didn't contact him for _two_ weeks, a total godsend in Kyle's eyes, telling everyone that yeah, Kyle had fucked up his nose, but he'd fucked him up even _more,_ so there was a restraining order involved. Peers coming by to verify said claims had all just shook their head, telling Kyle they _knew_ Cartman was full of shit but they just had to see it for themselves. Stan and Kenny had learned how to play the game carefully, Stan getting break-up dramas spilled out by 10:45 if need-be and Kenny sending a nightly request to see him at nine so he'd have those two hours before Kyle finally forced him either to shut up and just get some sleep, or out of the bed entirely if he got too handsy.

So, as his phone blared in the late hours of the night, waking him from a deep sleep with a groan, Kyle could only figure it was something important. Or at least it damn well better be. Bloodshot eyes creaked open, squinting at the lowered brightness of his phone reflecting off the ceiling. It was still _far_ too bright for him to want to deal with upon just waking up. His ringtone continued to blare, fingers blindly reaching to his nightstand and nearly getting tangled in the charging cable before managing to snag the vibrating device and press the answer button, snuggling down into his mattress.

"Mmm-? Hello?" he croaked, brow furrowing as he rubbed at his eyes with his free hand. He could hear the faint sound of shuffling, some murmurs before the telltale _beep beep beep_ of the disconnected call. He sighed, wondering if someone had fucking butt-dialed him yet again before flinching at his text tone ringing into his eardrum. He pulled it down with a hiss, squinting at the unlisted number appearing at the top of the notification bar. He blinked, slowly forcing himself to prop on his elbows at comprehending the ending four digits.

The four digits to the number that only _he_ knew, the only other person in the world connected to that number aside from the owner.

' _I got trapped on a fire escape downtown off Main. Can you come help?'_

Kyle narrowed his eyes, looking at the prominent 3:48 standing starkly against his darkened background. He shook his head, thumbs moving in response. _'Are you all right? How'd you get trapped?'_

He paused, biting his lip and sitting up, letting his quilt slide down to his hip as he awaited a response. It came promptly, his brow raising. _'I'm fine, just come help me.'_

Kyle hesitated, something just feeling _off_. There was no please. Kenny _always_ said please when asking for his help. _'Don't wanna be a rude fuckhead like my parents, ya know?'_ he'd told him cheekily after Kyle had jokingly asked him one day if his life was nothing but a game of _Mother May I_. Even when using _this_ phone, even when Kyle was kept out of the loop of what he was doing, that mannerism never left.

He sighed, knowing that if he was in trouble, he'd hate himself if he didn't come assist and something ended up happening. _'Yeah. I'll be there in a few. Which building?'_

Kyle threw off his covers and hurriedly grabbed his clothes laid out for the next day, hopping around and trying to keep his noise level at a minimum to not risk disturbing his slumbering family down the hall. His phone buzzed again and he craned his neck, reading a quick _'Back of office building towards the woods.'_

He slipped on his shirt, moving to seize his boots from beside the bed and easily slip them up and on over his pantlegs. He rubbed his eyes with a long yawn, grasping the phone again and shaking his head. _'I'm on my way. Hang tight.'_

Kyle grimaced, waiting a few moments for a returning ' _thank you'_ and never receiving one. "What the fuck happened to you," he murmured, reaching over and snagging one of Kenny's leftover hoodies from his bedpost and sliding it over his shoulders. He shoved his phone into his pocket and grabbed his house and car keys from his desk. The metal dug into his palm as he opened his door and started silently sneaking out of his room and down the stairs. He was always told in this rare situation to not take his car. Too easy to identify and trace.

The twisting feeling in his gut said otherwise.

He took a deep breath as he made it off the stairway and towards the front door, face locked in a tight frown as he unlocked and creaked it open to the crisp night air. He sighed, moving outside and shutting the door behind him, looking at his waiting vehicle parked beside his father's. Kenny was probably right. He usually was in this regard. Kyle pouted, relocking the door and shoving his hands deep into the hoodie pockets.

Whatever. Not like South Park was a sprawling town. It was a quick walk, then he could figure out what the hell was going on, and he could come straight back to bed. He nodded to himself, fighting off another yawn as he turned down the walkway to his home and started heading along the darkened streets.

* * *

Coming up on Main Street, Kyle kept his eyes peeled and glancing upwards, looking for a blocky, shadowed figure against the side of a building. He hummed, picking up his pace in the slightest as he approached a short row of offices perched in the middle of the layout. Kyle clicked his tongue, hitting a sharp right and making way down a long-stretching alley, seeing the outline of trees in the background of a chain-link fence. He tilted his head up, still looking with that gnawing feeling pressing against his stomach.

He stepped around back, eyes narrowed suspiciously. "Mysterion?" he called quietly, making damn sure to keep the name straight. One instance of Kyle nearly blurting out his real name had sent Kenny into a perpetual panic, Kyle being put on a gag order for a good two months if he was anywhere near him as he donned his cape, not that it was a common occurrence to begin with.

He couldn't see anyone on any of the escapes, scratching at his hair. Maybe it was further down the way.

Snatching his phone back out of his pocket, he grimaced, not seeing any indication that he'd gotten out on his own. He opened his messages to text him again for more specificity, pausing as movement caught the corner of his eye in the dim lighting of his phone. He glanced up, heart dropping and throat letting out a panicked yip before a darkened figure slammed into him and brought him crashing onto the pavement. He yelped, briefly blinded by the knock to his head and screeching at a hand smashing down over his mouth and nose.

"Shut up," an unfamiliar voice demanded. Kyle grunted, instinctively scratching and kicking, whining at weight being pressed onto his legs. "You know 'im?" his attacker demanded, barely allowing him a lick of air before pushing back down against his face. "You're the only one in the phone," he hissed, shaking him.

Kyle was dizzied, nauseous from the lack of oxygen. He hadn't caught up yet, only knew that he was in trouble and had no fucking idea what was going on and how to stop it from proceeding. He jerked up, bringing his fist with him and crashing it against the shapeless face hovering above him. The hand over his mouth left as they stumbled and Kyle swallowed in heaving gasps, lungs aching and veins pulsing as they tried to recover. He tried kicking the second figure off his legs, reaching down and trying to punch them as well before being forced back down onto his back.

"Answer me!" the first demanded, grabbing under his chin and pressing up against the top of his throat. Kyle choked, hands coming up to try to pry him off, mind still whirring and unable to understand just how he'd been _ambushed_ of all things. "Yes or no, kid!" he snapped, leaning down towards him.

Kyle gritted his teeth, moving his compromised head up enough to launch a wad of spit into the man's face, rewarded with nothing more than a violent shove back onto the concrete. He punched and smacked, balking at a harder press against his trachea and eyes blearing with besieged tears.

"I'm thinkin' that's a yes," the one holding his legs scoffed, tightening his fingers into muscles that tried so desperately to raise and fight away.

Kyle whimpered and squirmed, nails digging into his choker's forearm trying to pry him off, barely granting himself the least bit of room. He rasped, _"Get off!"_

"Not happening," the first muttered, free hand going back over Kyle's mouth. He glanced around, looking over at his counterpart. "How should we move 'im?"

He shrugged, "Carry him I gu-" he stopped with a jerk as the first was suddenly gone from his sight with a shout, tackled down to the side by a shadowed figure barely visible in his adjusted eyes. Kyle lurched up with a gasp, coughing and trying to reopen his stressed airway, barely hearing flesh being beaten, bones smacking into concrete, and infuriated shouts to his side. A momentary relaxation of the hold on his calves snapped his eyes open, ripping his right leg out of the man's grip and smashing his boot into his face. The man yelled and fell back, Kyle turning over to scramble out of reach of another snag. He panted, looking to see a caped figure smashing the man against the ground still.

He took a deep, thankful breath. _'Took him long enough,'_ he thought wearily. Kyle looked up at movement, drawn towards the second man running in for the assist. Kyle narrowed his eyes, brain not catching up to instinct before he launched up and forward, weakly slamming his body weight into his torso and bringing him back down onto the ground.

"Get off!" he shouted, ripping at Kyle's hair and trying to throw him off to the side. He hissed, grabbing his wrist and trying to pull off the follicle assault before a sharp cry of pain caught his attention. He whirled his head around, seeing Mysterion holding his arm before moving back and punching the man in the face, his skull making a sickening sound as it bounced off the cement. Kyle forgot his current mission, more focused on the pained breaths leaking out of Mysterion's lips and trying to see what had happened.

He let out a startled scream as an arm wrapped around his throat and ripped him back, looking up to see Mysterion stopped and staring, shadowed eyes wide and gleaming in the moonlight with panic. "Get off him," the man holding Kyle instructed, shaking him a bit. "And I don't snap his neck."

Kyle hissed, trying to kick but only sliding, exacerbating the pressure on his already-wounded windpipe. Shaking fingers yanked against the sleeve draped across him, doing nothing but agitating a harder press out of the man. The man's free arm slammed down around his own to cease his tugging, Kyle cursing and wriggling. Mysterion quickly did as told, diverting immediately and grabbing the first in the same fashion, the two of them staring one another down. "Same goes for him," he spat, jerking his head down to the dazed man.

"You won't. I will."

Mysterion squeezed pointedly, the man choking and flailing all he could in his slumped positioning. "Wanna fucking _bet_? I don't have a problem getting rid of _pests_."

"Well same _fucking_ here!" he snapped.

"For fuck's sake!" the man in Mysterion's hold rasped. "Just fuckin' trade us!" Mysterion's eyes landed on Kyle, who was still squirming, refusing to appear so helpless without putting up a fight.

He nodded, "Fine."

"We do that, you let us leave," the one holding Kyle demanded. "No cops."

"Well then you better fuckin' hurry and let him go, because the cops are still looking for you and heading this way," he narrowed his eyes. The criminals froze before snarling and the man across from him let out a frustrated breath.

"Fine. On three." Mysterion nodded, both holders pivoting to grab their partner out of harm's way. "One. Two…" he hesitated, watching for any loosening of Mysterion's arms, seeing a slight release and following suit. "Three!" he said, both relinquishing their holds and grabbing their companions' arms to pull them over the pavement into safety. Mysterion yanked Kyle up into his chest, cupping the back of his head protectively and feeling how ridiculously fast his heart was beating.

He growled, "Leave. _Now_ ," he demanded. "And drop the fucking phone."

The first man sneered, grabbing said phone out of his pocket and throwing it in front of them, the criminals stumbling up onto their feet and briskly making their way off running down the back alley trying to support one another.

Mysterion watched them heading off and away until they turned a corner, looking back down to Kyle's shaking body. "Hey, you okay?" he whispered, his forced, grating 'superhero' tone falling at once in concern. Kyle silently nodded against his chest, wincing at a gulp painfully receding downwards. Lips found his hair, pressing time and again against his scalp as arms kept him in a shielding embrace. A tinge of copper entered Kyle's recuperating sinuses, glancing to one of his holdings and blinking at a glistening, dark stain standing starkly against Mysterion's light wisteria suit.

"Your arm," he whispered.

"That's not fucking important," Mysterion shook his head, holding him a little tighter, voice cracking in the slightest in a way that made Kyle's heart lurch.

They both lifted their heads at the appearance of red and blue flashing down the way, their eyes widening. "Shit," Mysterion spat, snatching back his phone and moving to help Kyle back up onto his feet. "Can you run?" Kyle merely nodded, shivering at his arm and cape wrapping around his shoulders and hurrying him towards the direction of the incoming cars, praying that they wouldn't catch them running past behind the buildings as they dashed off and away into the night.

* * *

As the two of them silently limped up towards the McCormick homestead, chests heaving and clutching onto one another for support, the concurrent thought of _'what the hell am I even doing right now'_ seemed to be bearing down on the two of them. They finally rounded the back of the house to Kenny's room, finding the window ajar just enough for Mysterion to finally relinquish Kyle and wedge gloved fingers up and under the frame, grunting as he pushed it wide enough for him to hop up and shimmy through. Kyle watched him with a blank expression, looking worse for wear with as little damage as he'd taken.

Mysterion pivoted back up and around after he was in the room, reaching out and helping Kyle work his way under the pane as well. Kyle groaned, stomach scraping against the lock as his less-than-adept form was slid through with Mysterion's guidance. He found himself in the room, working his legs to step into the threshold in front of Mysterion, still clinging around his neck. Mysterion sighed, hugging him around the waist and leaning his forehead into his hair. "You okay?" he repeated.

Kyle nodded, finally pulling back, both just lost for how to proceed. An eight-minute jog of complete silence wasn't boding well on either of them, Kyle finally having to break eye contact and look off towards the dirtied bed with Kenny's discarded clothes from earlier that day. "Get undressed. I'll take care of your arm," he murmured, turning away from him and making way towards Kenny's closet.

Mysterion watched after him, cringing guiltily and moving to shut and re-lock the window. Deciding to postpone following directives for a moment and sitting on the foot of the bed, he watched Kyle digging through for one of his first-aid kits he kept stashed away. His movements were calculated, tensed. Something that wasn't just residual fear was eating away at him. Mysterion had a few ways he could approach this: He could silently wait. He could gently turn the conversation in that direction. He could flat-out demand to know what was happening and let Kyle punch him from getting his emotions out of control so rapidly before he spilled.

As tense as the air felt, the latter was looking rather lovely.

"Ky?" he whispered. "If you're hurt, please tell me."

Kyle shook his head, "No. Just shaken up." Mysterion's shoulders sank. He wasn't sure which he preferred. If Kyle was injured he'd at least know what to fix, whatever he was dealing with though, he wouldn't be sure until he heard it.

He perked up as Kyle found a kit and turned around with it in his hands, observing him from across the darkened room and Mysterion feeling a tinge of something more than exhaustion in his stare. "Ky?"

Kyle bit his lip, moving over to the side of the bed and switching on the bedside lamp with the missing shade, both wincing at the sudden assault on their eyes. They locked stares and Mysterion's heart dropped. It wasn't anger waiting in green eyes to greet him as he expected. It was disappointment. It was _hurt_. "You used me," Kyle said, voice soft, too meek for such brutal words. Mysterion froze, jaw shaking. "You used me as _bait_ ," he continued, unable to keep looking him in the face. "How… why… How could you _do that?"_ he pleaded, locked down on his shoes.

"No, no, no," he shook his head, scrambling up onto his knees on the bed, ignoring the pulsing of his wounded arm. "Kyle, no, that's not it-"

"Then why did they have your phone?!" he snapped. "Why did you wait until I was on the fucking ground before showing up?!" he finally looked back up, eyes welling and Mysterion's following suit.

He cringed, slowly peeling back his hood and ripping off his mask, blonde hair falling around a devastated face. "I had no other way to contact you," he whispered. "They took my phone tonight after I caught their buddy and left 'em for the cops. I didn't realize it until I was back out looking for them… I found 'em talkin' about doin' it and tried to get the phone back and get them down but they shoved me down a fucking hill and I lost 'em. A-and if I went to tell you directly and they were following me, they'd know where you live," he winced. "Then they could go after you _and_ your family and I'd never forgive myself for that. I had to just… follow you there once you got to town. I lost you for a few moments when you went to the alley, that's why they got you down first. I was trying to protect you, I _swear._ "

"No. You could have _protected me_ by telling me what was happening before I got there and not letting me go by myself!" he hissed, throwing the kit on the bed and plopping down beside it, stewing as he glared at his miserable boyfriend. "What happened to me not being allowed to get near your 'cases' or whatever you fuckin' call 'em, Kenny?" he demanded.

Kenny sighed, peeling off his gloves and sniffling, "If I didn't find them… they would have had your number to keep. Not hard to track a person from their number, Kyle," he reminded him sadly. "I could get them away from you out there, there's no guarantee I could've known if they'd gone after you when you were home alone or something."

Kyle took a deep breath, eyes dropping back to Kenny's torn woolen blanket. "What if they kept my number anyway? Put it somewhere else?"

"I don't know," he whispered. "And that fucking _terrifies_ me."

Kyle bit his lip, anger and hurt swelling around his chest like mad. "I need to see your arm," he worked out steadily.

Kenny nodded, sliding off his cape as Kyle went to pull out supplies. He began working down the zipper of his jumpsuit, guilt eating him alive. "Kyle, you know I'd never put you in danger on purpose."

He was silent a few moments, letting his statement process. "What if your plan didn't work out?" he muttered, Kenny pausing peeling down his bloodied sleeve and staring at him for further elaboration. Kyle raised his eyes back to meet light blues and he gulped. "What if they grabbed me and you couldn't get them away before they killed you or something?"

Kenny took a long breath, "If they'd killed me, they wouldn't have had any reason to still hold onto you. You would've gotten away regardless."

"Or they would've killed me, too, since I know their faces decently enough," he muttered. "If they killed one they'd have no problem with another." He reached up, hitting the end of his patience and tearing down Kenny's sleeve, wincing at the gash riding his forearm. "What did you even do?"

"Fucker had a knife," he mumbled, still reeling from Kyle's words. What if he was right? What if they'd gotten a lucky hit against his temple and decided Kyle was nothing more than a loose end needing trimmed? Kyle scooched up closer, snagging an antibacterial wipe from the kit and tearing open the paper packet, silently going to work on wiping the blood clean.

Kenny lowered his eyes in shame. He really didn't know how else to fix the problem his damn dropped phone created. That phone had been a compromise from years before, when Kenny had stumbled to Kyle's house for the first time in his uniform and climbed the tree outside his window, bleeding all the way needing help. Kyle had told him it had to be done, that he couldn't stand the idea of not being able to have any kind of contact with him if Kenny was out there bleeding out with no one able to even attempt to save him.

A pay-by-the-minute phone was something that they both agreed worked just fine for what they needed. Kenny should've known it could turn around and bite him in the ass. Everything always did at some point.

Well. Maybe not _everything_.

Kyle knowing his secret never had. He'd been tight-lipped all the way through, despite how _stupid_ he thought his boyfriend was for risking his neck on a near-nightly basis. This was traipsing in that direction, where Kyle was teetering on the edge of his patience regarding the entire thing, but Kenny knew him better than that. He had just gotten scared, had finally found himself in the role he'd sworn to never end up becoming: The goddamn hero's damsel in distress.

Aside from the phone, he kept his distance per Kenny's request and his own common sense. He wasn't stupid, knew well enough how _clichés_ tended to play out: Boy meets boy, boy falls in love, boy finds out his love is a vigilante, boy finds himself dangling off a goddamn bridge until love gives the villain what they want. Kenny never wanted him there and he sure as hell didn't either. Kyle had all but told Ken to keep his Mysterion business to himself unless he was hurt or it was pertinent information he needed assistance with. But Kenny's silence never mattered. Even if the specifics weren't there, his skin often told Kyle more than enough.

The way he would find random bruises, deep blotches over his chest and back, finger markings around his arms. How he'd found scrapes and burns time and again over his legs. How his nails had once scratched up Kenny's back and opened a long scab running down the length of his spine. Kenny was nothing but a concoction of adventure, of brutality. Kyle didn't want that. He wanted Kenny's life to be like his own: Monotonous, but comfortably so. Where the idea of doing work and going home to wait to see his boyfriend was routine, but one that he relished in. Not this. Not Kenny going home and waiting until sundown before sneaking out in his uniform. Or how he'd spend a few hours with Kyle and wait until he fell asleep before slithering out of his arms and heading out his window to his patrols. Sometimes Kyle wondered if it was because of him, if somehow Kenny found him to be so _dull_ that he had to fill the void with crime fighting of all things.

He knew that such an idea was ridiculous, knew that it'd been going on for _years_ before they got anywhere near being involved. But it still stung. Five years of patching wounds. Five years of exhausting anxiety. Five years of waking up to an empty bed and wanting to both cry and slam his fist through a wall because he just didn't know what to do about the situation. Five years of just not knowing if he'd see Kenny the next day or wake up to a news report talking about a masked man being shot between the eyes.

It was something they'd discussed only once when the situation first came to light, Kyle unable to say anything, just nodding along as Kenny explained his motives. How he wanted to make the world a better place. How there was scum out there that the police just hadn't found or didn't care about dealing with. How it made Kenny feel like he _meant something_.

Apparently, meaning something to Kyle just didn't quite cover what he needed.

Or, maybe it would have, had Kyle spoken the fuck up about it.

But he was torn, fraying at the seams. It was a lose-lose situation. He'd be an awful person if he told him to stop helping people. He _was_ an awful person for staying quiet and letting his boyfriend risk his life like this when maybe he could have put a stop to it.

Kenny had that power over him that even he couldn't understand. Anyone else he would have torn apart for being so reckless, for putting themselves _and potentially him_ at risk. But Kenny could silence him, a feat no other had accomplished. Kyle just wanted him to be happy, to find meaning in his life and a reason to get out of bed in the morning, even if it meant sleepless nights for himself and having to learn on-the-fly how to sew up a wound since Kenny couldn't afford to go to the hospital. Even if it meant Kyle wondering if they'd even have a future every single day.

Kenny had a purpose in life: Saving who he could. Kyle had his own: Saving Kenny from his selfish inner turmoil.

He figured Kenny knew on _some_ level how he disdained his activities, but until he was verbal, until he was direct about exactly what he wanted, Kenny wouldn't make a move from what he was doing. He'd always been like that; it was both a blessing and a curse. Kyle never had to worry about Kenny hurting him, not physically. He'd stop in an instant. But Kyle wondered if this would be the same, if his worried stomach pains and tension migraines would be as powerful a deterrent as a grab around his wrist that was a little too tight or teeth that dug into a bruise by accident.

He glanced up as he gripped a short, thick square of gauze and a roll of medical tape, eyes flickering as fingers brushed his bangs out of his eyes. His heart lurched yet again at the pure misery, the dismay echoing in those eyes he always equated with life, with warmth. With _anything_ but this haunting guilt Kenny seemed to be trapped in.

Those aching blues closed for a moment, fingers curling down to brush over Kyle's cheek. A reassurance for himself; a solitary promise that he really was there, that he hadn't fucked up beyond all comprehension and lost him. "I'm so sorry," he whispered, head dropping and shoulders shaking.

Kyle watched him silently, allowing him to continue petting his cheek while he worked to fold the gauze into a long, thin strip. "Don't be," he said at last. "You didn't want me hurt."

"But you still _got_ hurt," he sniveled, unable to raise his head, to bear that disappointment, that air of _distrust_ in his motives.

Kyle grimaced, laying the wrapping over his wound and beginning to tear off strips of his tape. "It happens. If there was another option, you would have found it, I'm sure. You've choked me worse than they did," he attempted a small joke, wincing at Kenny's head shooting up, face pale with horror. "Ken, you've never hurt me," he promised quietly, patting a hand against the air. "I swear." It was a constant reassurance that Kenny needed throughout their relationship, Kyle finding himself being handled as the embodiment of fragility more often than he would have preferred. Doting touches, strokes with the mere pads of his fingertips, lips that barely brushed over bare skin as though scared to make contact, terrified to shatter some form of illusion he'd found himself nestled in. Never would Kyle say he didn't relish in the affection, but a part of him always wondered if Kenny equated him to glass when in his hands. Even when Kenny had him pinned down and held every ounce of power over him, was reddening his skin with an open palm and taking frantic, craving scratches along his chest and back, that readiness remained; that ever-cautious stare of 'did I go too far'. Kyle wondered if he treated criminals with that same level of attentiveness. Not lovingly, but legally. Knowing just how far he could take it before the law of the land decided he'd overstepped his jurisdiction and brought him down.

Kyle sighed through his nose, finishing plastering the padding over his arm and moving to pack the kit back up. Kenny watched him, fingers twitching but keeping them to himself for the time being. He opted to just quietly maneuver himself to slide out of his boots and uniform, snagging his discarded 'civilian' clothes from near the top of the bed and slowly redressing himself. Kyle closed the kit and slid it off to rest on Kenny's nightstand, carefully worming it around half-filled cans of soda and discarded cinnamon gum wrappers.

He stared at the glowing red 4:22 of Kenny's clock, the eerie glare it cast on his pillow stained with hair oils even when drowning in the lamp's light. It all seemed surreal, it always did. He always found himself here, wondering if he'd wake up and find Kenny just snoring away beside him. If this whole hero business was a manifestation of too much studying and too many sweets to keep his energy levels up. Maybe reality truly was as stasis as he wanted it to be, where Ken was just a blue-collar worker who was always there when he needed him. Where he never had moments of feeling like a living urgent care center. Where their nightly thoughts were only of one another, of what they would do the next day with each other. Not if one of them would be coming back or not.

He turned his head back at those soft fingers nervously gripping his arm, feeling a tremor racking through Kenny's wrist. "Are you mad?" he asked, voice cracking.

Kyle shook his head. "No. Not mad. I'm just really tired, I have class in two and a half hours," he sighed, rubbing his eyes with the hand not currently in Kenny's possession.

Kenny sank guiltily, scooching forward, watching for Kyle to tell him to back off, just in case. He leaned down, pressing his head against Kyle's temple, hot breath rebounding off his cheek. "I'm sorry," he repeated.

"Stop being sorry. You didn't plan this."

Kenny sighed, tilting his chin up and pressing his lips against his cheek. "No, but if I hadn't dropped my stupid phone you would've been fine."

"I'm still fine," he assured him, twisting in the slightest and granting him a brisk, forgiving kiss. Anger here wouldn't get them anywhere. And Kyle knew whatever anger he did harbor held little ground in comparison to Kenny's motives. It was a battle he was bound to lose and unwilling to fight.

He felt the tickle of lashes against his skin before Kenny cupped his chin and turned him further, brought him closer to kiss. Kyle could feel his heart pounding, completely enamored, completely _trapped_ in Kenny's unrestrictive embrace. Air was being stolen from him faster than hands around his neck could ever accomplish, utterly held down by the weight of breath alone. His fingers traced up into frizzed blond hair, playing and tugging, feeling tangles catching around his nails. Kenny pulled back for a moment, bumping their noses together. "Want me to take you home?" he asked.

Kyle couldn't help but smirk, feeling both beguiled and annoyed in the same fell swoop. His house was goddamn _next door_ , he didn't need escorted. But Kenny was always like that, a gentleman hidden under layers of ratty clothes, crude humor, and public groping. He knew he should take him up on the offer, that he'd hate himself at nine when his second class began and he would start to drag and curse tonight's events. But, he shook his head instead, just needing to be here right now, needing to feel that what was happening was real. "No," he murmured, guiding him back to his lips and twisting himself up onto the bed.

He could feel the twitch of a smile against his mouth, how relieved hands dropped from their tenseness and began to glide freely up his arm and waist. A casual normalcy fell into line, as it always did. Where they both forgot about the discarded purple cape on the floor, they forgot that Kyle had a test tomorrow and needed to get his ass to bed, they forgot that things weren't _typical_ for them. A quiet moan snaked through their kiss as Kenny moved a hand down to his left thigh, gently pressing his fingers against the inner skin. Kyle took his direction, legs opening for him to come between, to start leading him down onto his back and never breaking their hold on one another.

Kenny's tongue dipped and swirled around familiar territory, muscles relaxing as he soaked in Kyle's magnetism, let himself be emmeshed in the pull. Bent knees squeezed his waist in the slightest, and he couldn't help a small smile. Kyle was so forgiving of his stupidity. _Too_ forgiving at times. Even when he fucked up royally, when he missed dates or somehow ruined his day, the most he got was a quick snap. Sometimes Kyle walking away for a few hours or so just so he could cool off.

The first walk-off had _terrified_ Kenny. He'd never seen Kyle of all people taking himself out of an argument, assuming right then and there that he'd messed up beyond repair, that he and Kyle were kaput because of a simple miscommunication. Only once Kyle had calmed down hours later and came back could he breathe again through a drunken stupor. He got his first _'don't goddamn drink yourself to death over me, you retard'_ lecture, but it was worth it to hear Kyle explain he was the one person he didn't want to blow up at. That he knew himself too well when enraged and tended to say things he couldn't take back, whether they were true or not. Kenny was privileged, his _exception_. He was the only one that could be a complete moron and get the barest of finger wagging. He was the only one that didn't send Kyle spiraling into utter fury, or at least made him conceal it better.

He breathed out contentedly at Kyle's hands slipping through his hair and keeping him down. His fingers traced up, scratching naturally along his collarbone and flicking up. Kyle's eyes scrunched at a brush against his chin, making a small noise of discontent that ripped Kenny off his lips in an instant.

"Let me see," Kenny directed, trying to gently tip his head up.

"I'm fine," Kyle bit, stubborn to the core as always.

"No, you're not. You're fucking hurt, now let me _see_ ," he demanded, placing a palm against his forehead and lightly pressing him back against the pillow, Kyle groaning as his neck was forced onto display. Kenny grimaced, tilting him and letting the lamp's light slam into the contour of his mandible, sharp eyes tracing for markings. He bit his lip, tracing with his free hand and flattening his fingers, lightly pressing against a barely-visible splotch of darkening flesh just enough for Kyle's breath to hit a small, but noticeable stagger. "Shit," he muttered. "You're gonna bruise there."

Kyle sighed, "Are you really that surprised?" he asked, still forced back and staring upside-down at the wall behind Kenny's bed. "You hit me with a roll of paper towels once and I fucking bruised. I think we're past the stage of marks on me being shocking."

"Well. Especially with me always on ya," he gave a half-hearted smirk, letting his chin drop back down.

Kyle reached back up, listlessly petting through his hair as he watched him guiltily. "If you say you're sorry one more time, I'm kicking you in the balls," he informed him.

"That'd be more a problem for _you_ than me," he chuckled, giving him a small wink. Kyle huffed out a small laugh, playfully pulling his hair.

"Don't think you have all the power here, Bud-" he stopped with Kenny holding up his hand, head shooting towards the door. "Ken?" he asked.

Kenny blinked, stomach plummeting at a telltale creak in the hall. "Shit. _Shit_ we need to get you out," he said, starting to climb off him before the door slammed open and they both flinched, seeing a very unamused Stuart standing in the doorway, leaning against the frame.

Glazed brown eyes trickled down to the man underneath his son, watching his eyes widen and his face go pallid. A starting sneer was more than enough for Kyle to tense, bracing himself for another screaming match to be had between Kenny and his father over him.

"Pops, _out_ ," Kenny hissed, beating him to the punch and moving up off the bed in front of Kyle as he struggled up onto the sides of his legs.

"My goddamn house," he scoffed. "'N I don't remember sayin' ya could bring _him_ here," he jerked his head towards Kyle's rigid form.

Kenny rolled his eyes, "Don't need yer _goddamn_ permission." Tonight had been stressful _enough_. They didn't fucking _need this_. Kenny always operated on the assumption Stuart was passed out cold, and only a handful of times had he been proven wrong. Every time was a disaster, though, had Kyle locked as a target for drunken rage with Kenny as the only barrier between himself and a man that had Kyle _still_ wondering if it'd be a terrible deed to punch out if he got near him again. It was too goddamn complicated to work out the schematics, Kyle not quite wanting to push Stuart far enough with a blow for him to practice his everlasting love of the second amendment. "I'm a grown-ass man, I pay yer _fuckin'_ bills. More _my_ house than yers," Kenny pressed on.

Kyle looked up at him with wide eyes. He was pushing too far, regardless of his accuracy; frustrations were coming out in a way neither of them would feel soothing effects from. Stuart continued to glare, still staring bitterly at Kyle as he addressed his son. "No _'grown-ass man'_ is runnin' 'round fuckin' some spoiled little _rich boy_."

Kyle cringed, rubbing at his arm awkwardly. His parents had money, he did _not_. Kenny had far more in his bank account than Kyle, but that mattered little to someone who only saw him driving around in a nice graduation present, who saw him give his son a new-release game console for his birthday with months of saved allowance from doing extra around his house. He saw only a kid going to college and not having to have a job to support himself through it, a kid who had more than once snuck homecooked meals into their house for Kenny, Karen, and Carol. A _show-off_ move to try to take better care of his family than he was himself, Stuart had concluded.

Kyle wasn't stupid, knew that Stuart looked at him and saw nothing more than a young, redheaded version of his father, regardless of the _gross_ inaccuracy. Someone who had it made in comparison to the dilapidated mess Stuart had brought his family up in. Someone who wasn't the best at hiding their wealth, bought flashy things for himself and excitedly showed them off, completely oblivious to his neighbor, to _an old friend_ , sitting off and away in the bar glaring holes into the back of his head. Kyle was no Gerald Jr., but Stuart didn't see it that way. Never had, never would. Such unfounded animosity only escalated once he'd caught him and Kenny half-naked and clinging onto one another after a good year and a half of hiding it from him. Kenny had had to lead him back to the opened window and help him scurry out, telling him to book it and he'd meet him at his house as soon as they were done.

Kyle never forgot the beginning shiner he came back sporting, that cocky grin Kenny gave him while boasting he thought he'd knocked out one of Stuart's teeth. Never forgot how he kissed the back of his hands and cheesily promised he'd take all the hits in the world for him, that he was worth it.

But, seeing the angered veins popping up on Stuart's forehead, Kyle was the furthest from thinking he was worth this level of conflict.

Kenny's teeth were grinding, "He _ain't_ a 'spoiled little rich boy'!" he snapped. "Fuck off 'n go t' fuckin' bed, ya goddamn drunk!"

Stuart's gaze finally slithered back up to his son, upper lip rising in a snarl. Kyle could feel it getting ugly, cautiously moving to stand up behind Kenny and peer around at his father, automatically caged in by toned arms. "Not while yer fuckin' a pricey _whore_ under my fuckin' roof!"

Kyle winced, looking to see Kenny's arms shaking around him. He was reaching his breaking point. "Don't you _fuckin'_ talk 'bout 'im like that!" he screeched through his teeth, Kyle unable to help wondering if Karen and Carol heard the commotion and were off hiding like Kevin and Kenny had always instructed them to do when Stuart flew off the handle.

He gulped, knowing the issue needed dismantled and fast before someone got hurt. "Mr. McCormick, just step out of the way and I'll _leave,_ " he offered, voice tinging with exhaustion. "I don't want to cause a problem."

As though it weren't too late for that.

Stuart looked back at him, giving a sneering smirk. "You want out? C'mon then. Or you afraid you'll mess up yer eighty-dollar haircut? What kinda man hides behind some _other_ man?" he taunted.

"He ain't _hidin'_ , he's just better than yer _bullshit_ ," Kenny spat.

He scoffed, "Yeah, I'm _sure_ he thinks he's better than me. And _you_. Ya _like_ bein' a charity case, boy?"

Kenny growled, feeling Kyle gently wrapping a finger through his back belt loop, another finger curling up against the small of his back. A silent reassurance, one that wasn't necessary, Kenny knowing his father was as full of it as they came. But he also knew that insinuation hit Kyle's ego more than his own, that it was a cruel notion that'd followed him all throughout their last two years of high school in hushed tones.

" _Why him? Looking for someone you can_ fix _and show off?"_

" _You know he's probably just looking for someone to take care of him, right?"_

" _I mean, look at the two of you. He's way out of your league, so this must be how it balances out."_

Years of being perceived by a number of their peers as nothing more than a lonely nerd with a decent inheritance in his future being taken advantage of had worn his self-esteem down time and again. Getting the same treatment from Stuart sure as hell didn't make it any easier. There were only so many ways Kenny could tell him how disgustingly wrong they were before it just sounded like routine, the two of them exasperated from the argument and dreaming of cutting the ties and just leaving South Park to get away from the stigma that wouldn't seem to leave either of them.

"Funny that ya call _me_ a charity case. I ain't the one collectin' welfare n' not lookin' fer a job," Kenny snapped. "Now get. Out."

"You don't _get_ t' tell _me_ what t' do!" he bit, taking a step forward.

Kenny moved Kyle to an angle, keeping him behind his back and biting his cheek. He glanced at the window, inwardly cursing to himself that it was locked. That gave Stuart way too much of an opportunity to advance while they tried to open it. He needed him away from the goddamn door. Kyle gulped, looking down at the floor and subtly kicking the discarded Mysterion uniform under the bed, Kenny giving him a pat on the arm as a quick, silent thank you. "Well _someone_ has t' call the shots. Takes a man t' do so," Kenny drawled, well enough knowing the perilous game he was playing. Dangling steak in front of a starved dog was a dangerous method, but he needed _him_ to move, not himself and Kyle. They'd unfortunately learned how to dance with the man from getting caught time and again.

Couldn't let him get close enough to shove Kenny down, that left Kyle open for a swing. Couldn't let themselves get backed into a wall, Ken would take a pummeling and Kyle would be trapped behind him getting just as roughed up as he was pinned and slammed against plaster under Kenny's weight. They gulped at another step forward, Kenny cautiously moving them both to the side.

"You watch yer _goddamn_ mouth," Stuart warned.

"I would say you watch _yers_ but ya can't ever see it past the beer can, can ya?!" he shot back. His eyes widened, knowing he took it a little too far as Stuart began a hasty approach. He pivoted and shoved Kyle out from behind him towards the door, Kyle tumbling onto the torn carpet from the abrupt force. "Ky, _go_!" he shouted, moving to intercept.

Kyle looked up to see Stuart nearing him and his breath hitched, fingers digging into the floor through a pizza sauce stain and scrambling back onto his feet, getting out of the way for Kenny to hop in and shove his father back a few steps. Kyle watched, eyes wide as he walked backwards towards his escape. Kenny shot him a glance, "GO!" he repeated, _pleading_. "I'll be right behind you, get outside!" he yelped at a brash fist smashing into his cheek and he stumbled back.

Kyle hesitated, wanting to do what Kenny did for him, wanting to leap between them and get him out of danger. But he was a distraction in this battle, not an aide. He nodded, turning and dashing out of Kenny's open door, rounding the sharp turn down the hall and nearly running into Karen looking at him with wide eyes. "Go to your room," he said hurriedly, turning her and leading her back down that way.

"Is Kenny okay?!" she asked, trying to worm back at an angered shout from their father.

"He's fine, I just pissed off your dad again," he rolled his eyes, looking up at another form appearing in the hallway, Carol staring at them in exhausted bewilderment, her hair astray from leaping out of sleep.

"The hell did you do t' piss him off?" she questioned, knowing full and well he hadn't done anything in _particular_ , she'd heard enough of Stuart's rants to know the hefty disdain between the two of them.

He gritted his teeth, "I was born, Mrs. McCormick. C'mon, both of you," he urged, leading them both towards Karen's room and through her doorway. "Stay in here until he calms down, okay?" he begged, both nodding before he shut the door, halfway through pivoting to continue down the way before he was grabbed around the arms. He flailed in panic, nearly knocking his holder in the face until Kenny's hand gently caught his wrist, blue eyes wide and blood dripping from his nose.

"C'mon, c'mon," he urged, leading Kyle down the smoke-stained hallway and to the living room littered with plastic crates, their hearts pounding as they could hear Stuart behind them cussing up a storm. Kenny ripped open the door and half-shoved Kyle out into the night air, slamming it behind them and continuing to lead him into a sprint out and away, wincing at rocks catching under his bare feet but keeping them moving. He kept his ears perked for the sound of his door flying back open, catching it and gripping around Kyle tighter, feeling infuriated eyes watching them making way to the railroad tracks.

" _Don't you_ fuckin' _come back!"_ Stuart screamed after them, Kenny sneering and shaking his head. Whether that was meant for Kyle or himself or both, he didn't know. Nor did he care. Stuart would forget about it by morning anyway. The two of them ran over the tracks, Kenny biting his lip as he moved between the ties in the grass, trying desperately to avoid a toeful of splinters. They crossed the threshold, unable to stop moving until reaching Kyle's driveway. It was their gool, no one could touch them here. Or at least that's what they always just went on when they ran, Kenny theorizing that Stuart stepping foot onto the Broflovski homestead would cause him to burst into flame.

They made way around to Kyle's car, leaning against the hood and panting, Kenny lacing their fingers together. He shook his hand lightly, tonguing over his lips and scrunching his face at the taste of blood. "Thanks."

"Huh?" Kyle looked at him and blinked in bewilderment.

"The girls. Thanks for taking care of the girls," he elaborated, looking at him with a meek smile before it fell again. "Fuckin' Christ. I keep getting' you into trouble tonight," he laughed humorlessly, running his free hand through his hair.

Kyle shrugged, squeezing his fingers. "You've always been trouble. I've known that since I met you."

Kenny chuckled and nodded, "Yeah, but I don't think my gettin' you in trouble should include you bein' attacked. It was one thing when we were caught with beer in high school. I think it's a little different here."

He smirked, "Yeah, but tonight doesn't have the looming threat of my mother finding out. I'd rather get punched through a tree than deal with her losing her shit at me for having a goddamn Miller of all fuckin' things again."

He grinned, feeling more at ease as Kyle calmed and elbowing him a bit. "Sorry, Babe. All I could get Kev t' give me. Stingy bastard kept all the good stuff for himself."

"I don't blame him. I don't like paying for pretty much _water_ either. I would pass it off to an underage sap, too," he scoffed, Kenny laughing and knocking their heads together a bit. Kenny moved back up, wiping the blood from under his nose with the back of his wrist and sighing, moving to rub the stain off on his jeans. Kyle watched him and winced, "You okay?"

"Yeah," he nodded. "I got 'im worse. You shoulda heard 'is head hit the wall. Gotta tell ya, Babe, felt better than goddamn sex."

"I feel like that should insult me on some level."

He smirked, bumping against him again. "Better than sex with someone not as hot as you. Better?"

"Cheesy. But better," he returned the expression, leaning up and planting his lips against his cheek. He could hear a pleased hum from Kenny's throat, smiling and moving to put his forehead against his shoulder, Kenny laying his own atop his hair while they continued to try catching their breath. Kyle looked down at his waist as he felt a vibration, reaching into Kenny's hoodie and yanking out his phone, both wincing at the brightness bursting against the early morning obscurity.

**Ike**  
_'Heard Ken's dad when I woke up and you're apparently not here. You all right?'_

"Aw, he cares," Kenny teased.

Kyle snorted, "He just doesn't like that no matter what I do with you, some kind of noise is involved." Ken gave him a pronounced wink and clicked his tongue, Kyle shaking his head and laughing as he opened his messages back up.

**Kyle**  
_'Yeah, we're fine. Close my door so Ma and Dad don't see I'm not there, please.'_

Kenny cocked his head, looking at him curiously. "Figured you'd wanna head to bed."

Kyle looked up at the 5:08 along the top of his screen and shook his head again. "Fuck it. I'm not goin' to classes today, I'll make 'em up later. I really just… don't wanna be confined in a room right now, ya know? If you wanna head up and sleep, though, you can."

He smirked, "Nah. Got some adrenaline goin' again. Been way too fuckin' long of a night."

"Honestly," he huffed in agreement, looking back down at his phone at another subtle vibration.

**Ike**  
_'Yeah because you not coming down the stairs won't tip them off or anything. Moron. But fine. I expect ten dollars left atop my desk by this evening.'_

**Kyle**  
_'How about you do it for free and you throw in telling Ma I left early this morning and then I don't have to tell her how I bailed you and Filmore out for your little pyrotechnics fiasco? :)'_

Kenny cackled, "You dirty little player you."

"You grow up with a shitty exploiter like him and you learn the game _well_ ," he drawled. "Lucky you having a little sibling who isn't a complete shithead." Kenny smiled and shrugged, Kyle looking back at his car and clicking his tongue. "Wanna go somewhere?"

He shrugged again, "Sure. Where ya thinkin'?"

"Starks?" he suggested. "Just somewhere… not here," he gestured around aimlessly.

Kenny nodded, "Sounds great. Clear fuckin' air sounds amazing right now."

"Right?" he chuckled, both sliding off the hood and Kyle ripping out his car keys, unlocking their doors and both sliding into the leather seats. Kenny looked around as they buckled in, shaking his head at the immaculate state of his car aside from one half-eaten protein bar shoved into the cupholder.

He frowned as the engine started, staring down at it curiously. "Ky?"

"Mhm?" he asked, shifting gears and going to back out of the drive.

"When's that bar from?"

He shrugged, "Uh, I think just yesterday morning. It's safe if you want it if that's what you're asking. And there's tissues in the glove box, your nose is still bleeding."

They bounced back a bit with the car lurching forward and making way down their street. Kenny silently did as suggested, reaching forward and letting the compartment pop open, snagging a tissue from the open travel pack and pushing the door back up. He sighed, pressing the tissue up under his nose and looking at his boyfriend worriedly. "Why didn't you finish it?"

"Huh?"

"The bar. Why didn't you finish it?"

Kyle blinked slowly before shrugging. "I… I wasn't hungry? I don't know, Dude I just didn't. Not like I skipped breakfast entirely or something."

"No, but you don't finish food when you're stressed out," he said quietly, Kyle falling silent. Kenny gulped, "Somethin'… buggin' you?"

He shrugged again, "Um, you know… school. Ma. Just regular crap that's always drivin' me nuts."

Kenny eyed him warily. He'd been seeing this for goddamn _months_. Kyle was always able to talk his way out with it only happening during a full meal, perfectly excusable to only eat one slice of pizza or half a piece of chicken. Not half a fucking protein bar, though. It'd been a bad habit of his since they were in middle school, once getting so stressed out over an argument with Stan he ate and ate without thinking until he got sick for hours. He became overly cautious after that, having a full meal when under mental pressure equated to too much on his nerves, triggered a recalled nausea. He had told Kenny it was like how he could never eat mussels again after one particularly bad batch gave him food poisoning. Same concept, same feeling of disgust. Half his meal kept him safe, he'd surmised. He was still eating, wasn't stupid enough to full-on deny himself sustenance, but he kept it carefully proportioned out, always cautious to stay under that Pavlovian limit.

Kenny pulled back the bloodied tissue, folding it to a clearer spot and pressing it back into place. "And me?" he asked softly.

Kyle paused, looking at him briefly before turning back to the headlights. "What about you?"

"I stress you out?"

Kyle took a deep breath, hesitation slamming into him like mad. Yes. He did. But he didn't _mean to_. He was doing it by being _such a good person_. He knew he was taking too long to figure out an answer, feeling Kenny sinking at his silence. "I… Not like that," he finally breathed out. "It's absolutely _nothing_ I can't deal with," he promised, blindly reaching down and gripping his hand on the console between them, squeezing it pointedly.

Kenny stared at their fingers wrapped around one another's, felt the worrisome tremors in Kyle's hand. "Okay… is it _me_ … or is it Mysterion?" he asked.

His shoulders drooped, not letting his eyes leave the safety of the windshield. "…Not you," he whispered.

He bit his lip, nodding to himself. He figured. Kenny himself was just way too laid-back, only fucking up here and there. Mysterion _had_ to grind against Kyle's nerves just knowing his naturally paranoid state. "…Ky, we need to talk about it," he finally said, feeling him tense.

"We have," he reminded him.

"Yeah. And that was five years ago and you barely said a word the entire time. And you're still stressed about it… H-have you not finished _any_ fucking meal in all that time?" Kyle was silent yet again and he slammed his head back against the headrest. "How the _fuck_ did I miss that?"

Kyle shrugged, "I have a secret weapon." He felt Ken look over at him and gave him a sad smirk, "Ever notice you usually get after-meal blowjobs?"

"Oh fuckin' hell you're not allowed to use your gifts for _evil_ , Kyle. That's just common courtesy."

Kyle chuckled, shaking his head. "Ken… I don't really know what to tell you. It stresses me out, but I'm not gonna tell you to stop doing it or anything. We're gonna just tread water discussing it, I think." They came to a stop sign and Kyle turned to look at him, heart dropping at the culpability back on his face. "Kenny, it's fine."

"No, it's _not_ ," he corrected, Kyle sighing and turning back forward to continue down the road. "Why didn't you _say_ something?" he begged.

He shifted uncomfortably in his seat, "I-I… I just never knew what to say," he admitted. "It's a… complicated situation."

Kenny pouted, knowing well enough that he wasn't wrong in the slightest. This situation had always been a tightrope they walked along but refused to acknowledge just how treacherous it was, made way and foolishly tried to convince themselves they were strolling along a stretching, open field. "Sorry I make things complicated. You have enough shit goin' on."

"Don't take this the wrong way, but you're a little too simplistic of a person to make it complicated."

Kenny snorted, "Wow. _Thanks_ , Babe."

"I mean that in a good way," he assured him. " _I'm_ the one who makes it complicated. Maybe not to _you_ , but it's my own feelings on it that make it messy. You have a simple goal and a simple way of going about it. But you know I tend to overthink things and be an anxious mess over _everything_. If you ever thought I wouldn't be the same way here I honestly don't know how you remember anything else about me," he shrugged. "Everyone has their… secrets. Their issues. Their goals. Anything that makes people around them wonder. Yours are a bit… _outlandish_ , but that doesn't matter. What matters is how you handle them."

Kenny sighed, squeezing his fingers. "Apparently, I don't handle it all that well if you're still all nervous about it."

"Kenny, I'm nervous about driving and I do it every damn day," he tapped his steering wheel with his finger. "That's just how I am. You _know_ that. Dye my hair blond and pump me full of espresso and I'm goddamn just a subtler version of _Tweek_."

"No. No dyeing your hair," he pouted, Kyle rolling his eyes with a smirk. "No changing your hair. Ever."

"I think you're missing my point."

"I am making a _more vital_ point," he took his hand from Kyle's and placed it on his scalp, petting his curls as Kyle shook his head. "This is my hair."

Kyle eyed him from the side, "Pretty sure it's actually _mine_ , Buddy."

"Nope. You entered a relationship with me so I get partial ownership. You want to change anything you need to make forms. P.S. all those forms will be instantly shredded and I just get to play with it for a few hours."

He snorted, "Ah, so now I _know_ why you wanted to date me."

"Well. That and your ass," he shrugged, laughing as Kyle flipped him off with a grin. His smile slowly fell, still softly raking through his hair and swallowing. "Do I really make you that scared?"

"I think worried is the closer term," he said. "Ken, _really_ think about it: How would _you_ feel in my position?"

He dropped his eyes down, pulling back his tissue again to minimal smears and sighing, moving to wipe off any remainder. "Terrified," he muttered.

Kyle glanced over at him and bit his lip, bumping his hand with his head. "Like I said, it's complicated. It's not _just_ me being nervous." The car came to a stop and Kenny glanced up, seeing them parked at the curb leading into the woods. He took his hand back and moved to get out of the car, needing just a moment of quiet before the conversation could proceed. Kyle watched him hurriedly clambering out, chest wrenching and giving him the few extra seconds he knew Ken needed before moving to pull off his own belt and shut off the ignition. He forced himself through a deep breath, knowing this conversation was far from over. He gave his discarded protein bar a sharp glare before pushing open his door and stepping outside. Kicking the door shut, he walked around the front of the car and came up beside him, watching the conflict playing out over his boyfriend's face. "Hey," he said softly, poking his arm and getting his attention back down on him. "I also think it's… pretty awesome," he admitted with a shrug.

Kenny quirked his brow, "You do?"

He nodded, grabbing his hand again and squeezing. "Yeah. I-"

"Hang on, lemme poke back in the car," Kenny interrupted, opening his door and unlatching the glove compartment. Kyle blinked, shrugging and looking off towards the woods before back to Kenny's bare feet.

"Hey, you gonna be okay with no shoes?"

"Yeah," he confirmed, standing back up and waving the tissue packet in his hand with a sheepish grin before shoving it into his pocket and shutting the door again, reassuming his position locked in Kyle's fingers. "Okay, sorry. Continue," he urged, both moving into the grass to start making way towards the hidden pond.

"Well… you have the balls to do what most everyone else doesn't," he elaborated. "I'm not gonna stand here and say that I particularly _like it_ , but I'm also not going to lie and say it doesn't impress me on some level."

Kenny smiled, bumping against him. "Oh? I _impress_ you?" he cooed.

He smirked, "In the same way that those stupid stunt shows Fatass watches do." Kenny cocked his brow and he shrugged. "Like, someone will take the time to rig up a ramp to send them fucking flying off a roof, right? I don't quite get _why_ , I never comprehend why would someone take that chance of getting themselves killed… But the method is always ingenious to me, and somewhat admirable in a strange way," he said.

Kenny paused, looking up before turning back down to him wryly. "Is that your subtle way of calling me a _jackass_?"

"I didn't think I was being that subtle."

They both laughed, leaning against one another as they trekked in deeper, Kenny trying to keep his eye out for stray branches in the low lighting as possible obstacles against his feet. "Still," Ken continued, "After the shit I put you through tonight, I don't think _ingenious_ is a good word."

"You saved my danger-prone ass _twice_ ," he reminded him. "You didn't even think about it, you just _did it_."

"Well, two things to that," he scoffed. "One: It's you. Of course I'm not gonna think about it; I'm gonna fuckin' get you out of trouble if I can no matter what." Kyle smiled, squeezing his fingers a bit tighter. "And two: I don't think it counts if _I_ caused them both," his shoulders sank, eyes glazing over pitiably.

Kyle took a deep breath, shaking his head. "Listen, I got pissy about earlier tonight, but it _wasn't_ your fault. Par for the course, I overreacted because I freaked out. You thought ahead enough to know what could have been worse than me just walking into it, and you were absolutely right. And your dad fucking hates me, that's not your fault. He's pulled that shit often enough I honestly should've known better. It's not like you… waltzed out and _announced_ my presence. He's just scarily fucking good at hearing me."

"Well, thin walls and nothin' but the sound of whiskey swishin' around will do that for ya," he rolled his eyes. "I just don't want you paranoid that I'm gonna be… throwin' you into danger all the time or somethin'."

"You don't, and I know that. Your dumbass dad aside, tonight was the first time," he reminded him. "And it was a _fluke_. That's why I goddamn _fell for it_. I felt like something was wrong with their message but I just, you know… didn't consider that it was anything but that you were hurt and needed help."

Kenny was silent, nodding to himself. "We need a code word."

He nodded in agreement. "Good idea. Don't know why we didn't think of that before," he rolled his eyes. "Given I don't think either of us thought anyone you'd be dealing with would be smart enough to figure something like that out."

"Exactly," he sighed, moving down and kissing his head, pressing his forehead down against him. "Are you sure you're okay?"

He cocked his brow, "Kenny, I'm not exactly subtle when I feel like shit."

He frowned, "Except you _have been_. You've kept this quiet for _years_ , Ky."

Kyle shrugged awkwardly, "I just didn't want you to think that I hated what you were doing. I mean… okay I _do_ but…" he sighed and leaned his head back, pecking his chin. "I don't know… What do you _want_ me to say?"

"I want you to stop… _boyfriending_ it," he pouted.

"Boyfriending it?"

"If I was anyone else, literally _anyone_ else, you would be like… screaming your head off at me. And like, telling me I'm irresponsible or reckless or _something_. You've never done that, you've stayed quiet on it all this time. I just feel like you should be angry at me or something."

Kyle stared at him, "I have no _reason_ to scream my head off at you. You're not doing this for any kind of selfish gain. If anyone else in this godforsaken town was doing what you do, sure, they could have _some_ good intention behind it, but they'd probably be relishing in getting recognition and other bullshit. You avoid that shit like the plague."

"Well I'm not very photogenic," he drawled.

"Okay, that's a damn lie, Buttfuck," he scoffed before his face softened. "But that really makes a difference in it. If you were… goin' off signing autographs or something, then yeah, I'd probably have a much bigger problem with it. But you don't, you go for it like a good person should. Humility is a key in this kind of crap."

He snorted quietly, "Didn't think you had much like this to compare it to."

"Not in particular, no. But you see people doing something incredibly simple like… giving a dollar to charity and they're fuckin' on Facebook in three seconds talking about 'how good it feels to do good' or some other kind of bullshit. You fuckin' risk your life almost nightly and no one knows but me and the police. I-I don't know, you keep it _so_ separate from _you_ that it just… puts this weird, transparent barrier between it. If that makes any sense at all."

Kenny shrugged, "I guess. I just wish you'd said something about how you felt earlier."

Kyle sighed, looking up at a glint catching his eye as they came towards the pond. He gulped, squeezing his hand and running his fingers up through his hair. "Okay. Fine. You wanna know how it makes me feel?" Kenny nodded, leading him over to sit a few yards from the water's edge. Kyle glanced over at him, Kenny blinking at what looked like ten years just thrown onto his boyfriend with the worried crease in his brow. "It upsets me. It frustrates me. It _exhausts_ me. I'm a nervous fucking wreck every goddamn night you don't stay with me. I never know if you're alive or not. And I don't… you know… have a _cop's_ spousal advantage or something, where I'd be the first one called if something happened. Hell, if anyone would even _know_ if something happened. And I fucking hate watching you bob back and forth between both sides. It wears you out."

Kenny shifted uncomfortably, crossing his legs and mindlessly picking at grass in front of him. "Yeah, it does. It's not quite as seamless as it looks in fucking comic books. No phone booths for me to just run and change in."

"Well, that's the mobile age for you. Only fight around construction sites and use port-a-potties instead. Practically the same thing," he smirked a bit, Kenny letting out a quiet huff of a laugh through his nose before scratching listlessly at his hair.

"I just wish you'd told me," he repeated softly.

"I didn't want to upset you or make you think I didn't support you or something," he murmured. "Remember, you told me like, only _a couple_ _months_ into us dating. We were still up in the air at that point, I was pretty focused on not fucking it up."

He chuckled, "Yeah. So was I. I know I told you while I was you know… bleeding all over your floor… But I'd wanted to tell you anyway. Thought that you'd think I was cool or something."

"Because that's me. Always goin' for the cool guy."

He looked over and raised his brow amusedly, "Nope, you went for your mother's worst nightmare: You went for the hick from the wrong side of the tracks."

He smirked, "A Catholic one no less. I think if I hadn't broken it to her gently she would've had a heart attack."

"Oh please, your mom loves me, I am a _delight_. Well. Thought I was. Now I really do feel like a jackass."

Kyle sighed, rubbing his eyes with his forefinger and thumb. "Ken, if it wasn't this, it'd be something else."

He cocked his brow, "Whaddya mean?"

"I mean… everyone has their things that couples have to deal with together. You deal with… my neuroticism. My overreactions at _everything_. You listen to me bitch about school and my family and all this other stuff. If you weren't doin' the whole Mysterion thing, it would've been diverted to something else. Whether it was… more about your dad. Or, no offense, but you'd probably drink more if you didn't _need_ to stay sober while out." Kenny nodded slowly, lips twisting in a slight shame. "Or maybe you'd just hit some bad depression spells or something. _Something_ would be filling the void that this would leave. Would it be easier to deal with? Probably. But the shit you deal with from me doesn't _have_ a positive side. There's no benefits anyone receives from me having a breakdown over a paper not goddamn turning out how I want it to. You help people. That makes it tolerable. Not great on me, or you for that matter, but it makes it _mean something_."

Kenny fell quiet, looking back out towards the water, tired eyes hazily locking on the light blue beginning to barely crest up behind a mountainous skyline. He pondered if this was how Kyle felt all the time, if his stomach stayed in painful knots, if his jaw couldn't stop tensing. He felt such a devastating guilt, knowing just what it was Kyle had been quietly hiding from him for so long, knowing just how much more he'd thrown onto a boyfriend who was on anxiety medication _before_ they started dating. Kenny wondered if the dosage had to be upped, if Kyle had lied to the doctor and told them it was just school wearing him down, not _"well my boyfriend dresses up in a jumpsuit and beats up guys doing small crimes. But sometimes those guys have guns. And I don't know just how many times he's actually been shot down without my knowing and I don't know that he comes back and most likely never will, so I'm just here just losing weight and sleep over it haha"_. He took a deep breath, clutching his hand a little tighter. "Kyle. You say you want me to quit and I will. End of story."

Kyle stared at him, both touched and overwhelmed with the choice he'd just thrown onto his shoulders. He could save himself. He could save them _both_. They could live _normal lives_. They could be so goddamn _happy_ _all the time_. It could be like daytime hours between them 24/7, nothing but laughing and smiling and talking and loving without a goddamn care in the world. It wouldn't have to stop because of a cape, wouldn't have to come to a grinding halt that sent Kyle flying through the windshield nearly every single night.

But, Kenny was selfless. He had to be the same.

He scooted closer beside him, leaning his head down on his shoulder and sighing. "I'm not going to sit here and lie and say that I don't want you to quit. A part of me will _always_ want you to. But… you can't. Not until _you_ decide to. You have a purpose and I'm not going to be the one to take that from you."

"What if that isn't my purpose?"

He shrugged, "Guess you need to figure that one out for yourself. I can only help so much. And I know all I've done is _bitch_ about it tonight… but I'm _really_ proud of you for what you're doing. I just also think you're a complete idiot."

Kenny laughed, flicking him lightly, "Well, you've thought that about me for way longer than this whole superhero thing."

"Don't get cocky with your descriptors, McCormick. Remember what I said about humility." Kenny snorted, plopping his head down atop his own and both taking a long breath.

He nestled down into his curls, planting his lips on his scalp. "You're too good to me, you know that?"

"Obviously the lack of sleep is making you tackier than usual," he said dryly with a smirk as Ken chuckled. "Besides, may be good to you here, but I treat you worse than everyone else in every other aspect, so it balances."

He raised his brow, "Whaddya mean?"

"I mean I don't bullshit you. With everyone else, if they… I don't know, have rancid breath or something, I politely offer gum. With you I just walk up and shove a toothbrush in your damn mouth. If you fuck up, I'm gonna tell you that you did. If I really, and I mean _really_ wanted you to quit this whole thing without thinking my opinion was wrong, then I'd tell you. No hold-backs. You know that."

He nodded, "Yeah, I do. Which is why I'm goddamn shocked you didn't tell me any of this for so long. This had to've been driving you fucking crazy, Babe." Kyle gave him no more than a half-shrug, unwilling to get that remorseful expression back on his face. "You say I'm simple, but apparently I really do complicate your life."

"Eh. I'm simple, too, so most things seem complicated anymore."

Kenny barked out a laugh, shaking his hand a bit. "Babe, I love you to death, but you are _not_ simple."

He shook his head, "You've infected me over the years. You're an awful influence you know that?" Kenny tilted his head before grunting and falling back, bringing Kyle with him with an _'oof'_. Kyle blinked before rolling his eyes and moving his head back to his shoulder, staring up at the gradually lightening sky together. "I don't seem to care as much as I used to."

He narrowed his eyes, looking at him in concern. "What? I made you empathetic?"

" _Apathetic_ is what I think you want," he chuckled, nudging him as soon as a pout hit his face. "Not really you, just life in general. But I wouldn't even go so far as to say apathy. I just don't care so much about… 'saving the world' or whatever like I did when we were kids, ya know? I mean, I _care_ , I'm just more invested in school or, frankly _you_ than I am in peace negotiations or whatever. Guess you're picking up my slack now."

Kenny squeezed around him, "You more than did your share when we were kids…" he trailed off before a goofy grin fell on his face, turning and pecking his temple. "Wanna hear somethin' _super_ gay?"

"We've been talking for well over an hour, I've heard you plenty of times."

"Ha. Ha ha. So funny," he kissed him again. "So you know how you said I'm a bad influence?" Kyle nodded, nestling back against his arm and shifting to get comfortable. "You ever know you were one of my good ones?"

Kyle snorted, looking at him wryly, "Fucking _what_?"

He shrugged, "It was more a combo. You and Stanny boy, but mostly you. It was kind of why the whole Mysterion thing started, honestly. You would always just… jump headfirst into problems like that. You didn't even _think about it_ you just went straight ahead and did what you felt was right for everyone, no one could stop you. I wanted to be like that, ya know? Unlike you though, I didn't have the balls to show my face while I did it. I still don't, and I'm not sure if that's a good or a bad thing."

Kyle paused, turning towards him and draping an arm across his stomach, playing with the cotton of his t-shirt and biting his lip. "It's a good thing," he decided, Kenny looking at him for elaboration. "When you… let yourself be known as someone who always does the right thing, it gets really complicated. You start getting pressured from every side, because they want you on their team, they want that reassurance that what they're doing is right. You get really torn sometimes. You become fucking _'Uncle Kyle'_ ," they both rolled their eyes in disgust. "You kind of… get pulled apart from yourself because you want not only to make everyone happy, but on a subconscious level, you know that your reputation is also at stake. Kenny has that problem, but Mysterion doesn't."

Kenny blinked, "Why wouldn't Mysterion? I mean, no one knows about him, sure, but what if they did?"

"They'd only know him as the vigilante. Nothing more, nothing less. He isn't anything but someone who beats people up and vanishes. They don't know his stance on everything. They don't know if he's doing this for selfish wants or not. No one will be able to say with absolute confidence 'well this is what _Mysterion_ would do'. With you as Kenny, though, you have a town who knows your name and face. They know your background. They know the _real_ _you_. So moves you make are judged based on everyone's set expectations knowing your previous behavior. Mysterion not so much. Your anonymity protects you from more than just people hurting your family or me or something. It protects you from judgment on that level, too."

He took a deep breath. "What about you? You know both sides. Am I doin' it right?"

Kyle smiled sadly, nodding. "Yeah. You are. And you get to do good for people without getting berated for making speeches."

Kenny chuckled, pressing his lips to his forehead and lingering, letting a heavy inhalation of his scent smother him. "I like your speeches, though," he murmured.

He hummed, tilting up and pecking his lips. "Well. You're alone on that ship, Buddy."

Ken grinned, kissing him again. "Good. I should be the only one allowed to enjoy your mouth." Kyle snorted and rolled his eyes, blinking at Kenny planting himself against his lips before sighing contentedly, a hand tracing up against Kenny's face. He let out a surprised grunt as he was rolled over onto his back, Kenny following to hover above him and bumping their noses together. Ken nipped his lip softly, pulling back a hair and smirking. "I ever tell you how hot it is when you wear my clothes?" he purred, tugging his hoodie sleeve.

"I ever tell you how disturbingly disproportionate you are when you wear _mine_?" he countered teasingly. "'Sides," he nibbled at his chin. "Thought you liked me better with no clothes, yours or otherwise."

He nodded, a hand snapping up and cupping his cheek, laying him back flat against the ground and wiggling his brows, "Is that permission?"

"You're not getting me naked and rolling around in _dew_ ," he scoffed, flicking his chin. "I'm tired as fuck, I wouldn't exactly be a bucket of energy for you anyway."

"How about just pants and boxers off and you just lie there and let me take care of you?" he tried, tapping his nose with a doting finger.

Kyle shook his head, "Didn't realize that I was a prize to be haggled."

"You are the _grandest_ of prizes," he grinned. "And I didn't hear a no."

He returned the expression, lazily brushing back a lock of blond bangs, "You didn't hear a _yes_ , either."

"I could get one," he promised.

"Prove it."

Kenny let out a quiet laugh, fingers trailing up and down Kyle's face. "You underestimate me," he kissed him briskly and pulled back, grinning as he jerked up a bit with the loss, already dissatisfied with such little attention. He gently pushed his head to its side, leaning down and breathing hotly against his neck, a tremble running up Kyle's spine. "Someone forgets how quick I can make them _beg_."

"Uh huh," Kyle mused dryly, flicking him again. "Don't make me take it back already," he sighed out as a tongue darted out, tracing up his pulse.

"You wouldn't," he said, pressing hot kisses along the exposed skin, steering clear of under his chin and working up towards his ear, brushing disheveled curls out of the way to nip at the lobe. Kyle bit his lip, hips arching as Kenny worked his knee between his legs, settling himself down and meeting his movement. He smirked, suckling a bit before pulling back, hovering over his ear and laughing in a husky tone that made Kyle gulp. "Someone's already gettin' worked up," he teased.

"That isn't your _'talent',_ that's me being tired," he argued, slapping him listlessly. "Keep it up and you can go jack off into a bush."

He hummed, hands trailing down to meet the hem of his sweatshirt, genially pulling it up with his t-shirt bit-by-bit. "Wanna watch?" he husked, smiling at Kyle shivering as his skin was exposed against the moist ground. "Nahh, you don't want that," he answered for him, digging his nails into his hips. "You like bein' all _up close n' personal_ , dontcha?"

"Of all the things for you to be egotistic over, you choose your dick," he rolled his eyes amusedly.

"I'm not hearing arguing."

"Didn't say I disagreed, I said your priorities are off," he shrugged, bringing his hand up and playing with Kenny's hair.

He snorted, sloppily pecking the side of his mouth. "Why wouldn't that be my ego's highlight? It's your favorite thing about me."

Kyle looked up in thought before shrugging again, "Fair enough."

"Ay," he slapped his stomach a bit. "You were _s'posed_ t' say somethin' _else_ of mine is your favorite."

"Want a fucking sonnet while I'm at it?"

He shook his head, moving down and kissing as he went. "Nah. Too long. I'll settle for a haiku, though."

Kyle laughed, arching up as soft lips brushed across his stomach, making way to his waistband. "All righty. Quit stalling you fuck. Or you aren't getting jack shit. Your eyes are okay."

Kenny leaned his forehead down against his abdomen, shaking with cackles and pinching his hip. "Wow. _'Okay'_. That's the dream, thanks."

"I can only work so much with limited syllables, dicknuts," he shrugged.

"Coulda used _'perfect'_ or somethin' less bruisin'."

Kyle looked down at him and smirked, "Kenny, I wouldn't use that word for you. I'd never _lie_ to you."

"Oh you dick," he reached up and shoved his head back down into the ground, shaking his head at his laughter and playing with the button of his jeans.

Kyle stifled a yawn though his chuckles, rubbing at his eyes with the hand not still caught in Kenny's hair. "Didn't realize you wanted me to be so mawkish."

Kenny hummed, kissing at his hips and flicking his tongue out over the bone, keeping Kyle's needy arches held down with firm hands. "I love it when you do, though. And you only do when you're sleepy," he teased, teeth scraping over his flesh.

"Jesus criminy, are you wanting to _make love to me_ or some faggy shit?"

"Lil bit," he shrugged, undoing Kyles button and grasping around his waistband, genially pulling layers of fabric down and grinning at the stiffening skin waiting for him.

Kyle winced as his lower half became exposed against the morning ground, body jerking with a shiver. "I ain't feelin' too saccharine with my ass freezin' off, McCormick."

"Picky picky," he murmured, reaching up and batting off his hand for a moment, grabbing his shirt from behind his head and yanking it off, shaking his hair out and sliding an arm through the condensation under Kyle's back. Kyle let out a soft groan as he was forced to arch up, Kenny haphazardly throwing the fabric under him and laying him back down. "Better?" he asked.

Kyle blinked, giving him a short nod. "Yeah… you need your sweatshirt?"

"Nah, you keep me pretty hot," he winked, Kyle barely making a sound of a retort before a warm mouth found itself in the crook of his hip and thigh, latching down and suckling the sensitive skin. Kyle's head fell back, a moan sneaking through a tremoring jaw. His hand flew back into Kenny's hair, sliding through and lightly gripping a palmful of matted locks. Kenny grinned, licking pointedly up the crease and relishing in the violent shiver of his thigh. Kyle let out a pleased purr, shoulders rolling as Kenny kissed along his hips and stomach, fighting to work off one of his boots and a side of denim as he explored. Kyle squirmed at a bite against his raised hipbone, yanking impatiently on Kenny's hair.

Kenny smirked, nipping again and finally managing to work off one of Kyle's pantlegs, carelessly sliding it to his other side. Only needed one gone, he didn't need Kyle getting goddamn hypothermia. He followed along with Kyle's tugging, giving him a lazy grin. "Yeeesss?" he teased.

Kyle grunted, forcing him down and smashing their mouths together with a sloppy tongue and needy pawing against his back. "Stuff in car," he mumbled out, barely pulling back from his target.

He grinned, reaching back into his jeans pocket and snatching out a small bottle. "Grabbed it already," he purred, tapping his side with the plastic.

Kyle finally broke off and looked down with a snort, "You fucking _planned_ this?"

"You said you thought I was awesome. What else could that _possibly_ mean other than 'take me now and take me hard, Ken'?"

He shook his head with a long sigh and a quiet laugh. "You know what, _sure_ ," he conceded, bringing him back down with a hand wrapped around the back of his neck.

"I love when you're too tired to argue," Kenny teased, pecking his cheek and moving to undo his own jeans.

Kyle kicked his calf softly, "Don't ruin this for yourself now."

"So…" he pushed his pants down enough to expose himself and grind against Kyle's twitching skin, loving the way Kyle's mouth fell open and a soft noise of surprise wormed its way through his throat. "I got my yes then?"

He smirked, eyes glazing over hazily and bopping his finger against Kenny's nose. "If ya ask me real nicely."

Kenny chuckled, moving down and putting his lips against his ear, humming lowly and feeling Kyle's fingers curling against his shoulder with another calculated press of his hips. "That's s'posed t' be _your_ job to be askin'."

"I think you need to work for the _privilege_ of what apparently enticed you to ask me out in the first place," he teased, turning and planting his lips on the corner of his mandible. "C'mon, _make it simple_."

Kenny's arms shook with light laughter, Kyle's ears perking at the familiar sound of plastic snapping open. A tongue clicked against his ear, distracting him with soft licks before he found his leg jerking in surprise at a cool, slick touch against his inner thigh. He bit his lip as it torturously worked its way down, pelvis arching against Kenny's in impatience. _"Ky_?" Ken breathed, breath scorching as he laid sprawled on the cold ground. Kyle's head lolled back a bit with a finger genially pushing its way inside of him, lips parting in the slightest with a soft sound.

"Mhmm?" he droned, only half hearing him as his jaw shook with a second finger teasing its way upwards so soon.

Kenny grinned, knowing just how thin a thread Kyle was already dangling from. "May I _please_ make you feel _real nice_?" he teased, feeling Kyle's cheek muscles constricting with a smile. "It all right with you if I _make ya scream_?" he purred, shoving in his second finger and moving with Kyle as he jolted with a long moan.

Kyle's nails planted themselves into Kenny's bare shoulder, a shudder leaving him with a shaking breath. "So egotistic," he mumbled, wandering through a glorious haze he never tired of.

"I ain't hearin' you callin' it inaccurate," he jested, maneuvering to swipe his tongue up behind his ear. "So, you gonna answer me?"

He let out a dramatic sigh, hips rolling against his twisting fingers. "I _guess_."

Kenny snorted, leaning up and meeting stares with him and his lazy grin, loving the darkened, seductive glaze ravaging over his eyes. "You _guess_?" he repeated, carefully pressing his fingers up and watching him squirm as he forced a tremor through his hand against his prostate. "Well if it's _such_ a hassle, maybe I _will_ head off to the bushes so Your Highness isn't _burdened_ by my visitation request."

Kyle cocked his brow. "That is _Your Majesty_ to you. And besides," he grunted, pressing his hips up and worming a moan out of Kenny through the pressure against his eager cock, met with another jerk of his fingers and the third beginning to work its way beside its counterparts. He winced, trying to keep their gazes locked while he adjusted to the strain. "If you can… walk away from me right now, I'll give you fucking fifty bucks."

He smirked, "Remember, Kyle: I'm a poor motherfucker. Don't make a bet you'll regret; you of _all_ people should know that."

He straightened out haughtily, breath staggering as his fingers all pressed deep into his muscles and stretched out. "What's worth more to you? Fifty bucks or _me_?"

"Now that's not a fair way to phrase that," he scoffed, twirling his hand and watching him gasp and clutch around him tighter. He leaned down and kissed his cheek, making himself comfortable by his ear once more. Sighing contentedly at Kyle's arms moving to wrap around his neck and keep him close, he ignored the pained, contorted extension of his arm as he continued to prep his drowsy boyfriend. "You're worth _everything_ to me," he cooed, sweetly kissing his temple. He felt a subtle shake of Kyle's head and grinned. Kyle would scoff and call him corny, would roll his eyes and blush until his face rivaled his hair, but Kenny knew him better. He _loved_ this brand of affection, he relished in it and let it soak down to his subcutaneous layer to spread throughout his veins. He'd remember each word with a fond smile and a hitched heart when things in life got a little too rough for him.

Kenny wondered if it was times like these that kept him quiet throughout the last five years, if Kyle let himself get lost in the phrases and the side of Kenny only _he_ got to see to keep him distracted from the stress of the _other_ side of that enigmatic coin. He sighed to himself, kissing him again. "Love you," he mumbled, nuzzling down into his neck.

Kyle blinked, noises still sneaking through his chest as he stared up at the lightening sky. He felt Kenny's breath shake and gulped. Letting out a soft grunt, he moved a hand down and caught Ken's working arm, giving him a simple push for him to pull out. Kenny did as requested, making a quiet noise as Kyle grabbed his head and forced him back up and over himself before launching up and sealing their mouths together. They moaned, Kyle's hand blindly fumbling around the grass beside them before snatching the open lube bottle and awkwardly maneuvering to let a dollop gush into his palm. Kenny's hands ran through the motions, grabbing and tearing open a foil packet from his pocket, haphazardly tossing the pieces aside as a latex disc fell into his fingers. Littering be damned, his mind couldn't imagine anything outside of what was happening right now, how sensitive his nerves felt, how wrapped up in every ounce of Kyle he was once more. He could barely feel the condom as he rolled it over his skin, too distracted from fingers so casually tracing over his head and neck, wisps of hair being curled, taken possession of. It was familiarly overwhelming, and it made everything they'd staved through _worth it_.

Kyle's skull fell flat back against the ground as Kenny's tongue seemed to overpower him, took each modicum of his energy and channeled it into nothing but an affectionate head rush. Thin hands wrapped around his waist, pulling him slightly up for Kenny to grind against. He darted his tongue up into Kenny's mouth, swiping over the hard palate as his hand made way to Kenny's cock and wrapped around. Their mouths vibrated from the conjoined groan, Ken thrusting into the slick grip and shaking with each variation of pressure Kyle granted him.

"Well?" Kenny breathed into him, Kyle drowning in his husked voice.

"Hm?" he barely eked out, too focused on the hot skin in his hand and the cold of the earth under his back. Kenny's sweatshirt was being soaked through, and he knew his weak-ass immune system well enough to know this could only end in at least a minor cold within the next few days.

Worth it.

"Dontcha wanna say somethin' _back_?" he teased, bumping their noses together.

Kyle couldn't help a lazy grin, a teasing squeeze around his cock. "I think you know. Otherwise my ass would be in bed alone and I'd be snoring up a storm right now."

Kenny nipped at his bottom lip, "I wanna hear it, though."

He smirked, nudging up against his face, feeling lashes hitting his forehead as Kenny pecked in sporadic places. It was an ego boost like no other for Kenny, he knew that well enough. Hearing it was enough for him to get through a rough day, to perk up even when something had been dragging him down. Kyle couldn't say he felt any differently, only able to get through most of his exams from the reiterating text Kenny would always send him on testing mornings with a row of various emoji hearts that would be _annoying_ from anyone else… But from Kenny, it felt right. Kyle knew he took his time, picked them in order of Kyle's favorite colors and followed by the stock reds that mirrored his emphasis on the words in descending order. It was _ridiculous_. It was _childish_ , like he was nothing more than a love-struck preteen on their two-week anniversary.

It was Kenny. And it was perfect.

Kyle hummed, releasing his skin and feeling a shaking breath rattling against his cheek, clean hand trailing from his shoulder to cup his face and guide him back to his lips. He pulled back a hair, the moistness of his mouth just touching Kenny's own, their tastes so mingled together it seemed to be that of another being entirely. Maybe it was, he thought. They were never _separate_ to anyone anymore. They were always Ken n' Ky, friends and family _confused_ if they weren't glued to each other's side every free moment they had.

Kyle let out a sad, soft laugh. If only they knew.

" _I love you_ ," he finally replied, breathless, the words still so _strong_. Sure, he could mindlessly say them on his way out a door, or as a sarcastic retort when Kenny made fun of him. But in moments like this, the quiet ones after a comforting talk, or just lying in bed together with the world going on without them, they seemed so much more impactful. The phrase had danced between them for four and a half years, and they still felt so _surreal_ when they found themselves too lost in one another to function.

He barely had time for another breath before Kenny was leaning forward and wrapping an arm around him under his head for support, the other trailing down to guide himself between spread legs. A soft hiccup of surprise escaped Kyle before he could stop it as Kenny pressed inside, but a comfortable warmth ran through his veins like a fuse. He was so _relaxed_ like this. None of the _pressure_ of a quickie before Kenny's shifts, not the mess of slapping and biting and snarling in their more intense exploits. Just them, just the grass, just _time_ that they wanted to make up for.

Kenny grunted, falling still and hiding his face in Kyle's neck, paying attention to the sounds, waiting for a subtle signal to hold his horses for Kyle to catch up to his level of readiness. Kyle's pants were heavy and wet against his ear, his fingers digging into his shoulder and upper arm enough for a sharp hiss to whizz through his teeth. An impatient huff roused him back into motion, grinning at the cracking moan slipping through the air crisp as dew.

A pleasured rumble from Kenny's trachea sent a shiver down Kyle's spine, his head falling back and mouth pried open from noises unable to contain themselves. His knees tightened around Kenny's moving hips, thighs aching to drop back onto the ground. But he wanted to be opened, wanted to let Kenny have his way for just this moment, allow him to do what he felt was best for a result that benefitted them both.

He hummed, a hand sliding up Kenny's chilled back to cup around his shoulder. There was nothing like this, nothing that had him feeling so _content_. The world just felt right when they found themselves locked together. Worries fluttered away in their labored breaths, arguments melted between greedy fingers.

Kenny's head raised, steadily moving as he looked at hazed green eyes nearly obscured by low-hanging lashes. The sight was magnetic, had him more confined in one world than a cloak ever could. A flush creeping along Kyle's cheeks hid the dusting of freckles that Kenny loved to count and Kyle loved to pretend weren't there. Kenny placed a sloppy, wet kiss on the last bunch trying to fade into rouge, Kyle twisting to redirect him onto his lips.

Perfect, they thought. It was the only word that worked as they breathed into one another, felt one another's heat keeping such a tight hold between them. Through awkward clicks of their teeth to losing themselves in choruses of sounds, Kenny occasionally losing rhythm from the overwhelming moment, through subconsciously knowing the mess they were making and how damn tired they were already…

It didn't matter.

Nothing mattered but them, the present, and the fight to keep a hold on one another to the bitter end.

* * *

Pulling the car back to Kyle's house seemed surreal, both still muddled from such an intense few hours. Whipping into the driveway, Kyle finally cut the engine and looked at Kenny holding his dirtied t-shirt atop his lap and staring out the windshield.

Lips pursed, he took a long breath. He'd been fairly silent since they'd finished and opted to head back to town. "Ken?" he finally asked. "You all right?"

Blue eyes slid to him at last, eying with a sliver of pride the absolute disaster of Kyle's hair catching rays of sunlight in curled glints. A beacon, Kenny thought. Kyle was his lighthouse, always leading him back to shore. He was only one ever beckoning Kenny, knew better than anyone that he so often found himself lost. It's a thankless job, one that Kyle doesn't even know that he pulls off so flawlessly, but it's one of the few things that goads Kenny on. It makes him want to be Mysterion in every way he can, protecting Kyle, saving him from everything, including himself.

"No one looked out for me," he mumbled.

A thin brow raised, Kyle's head tilting along with it. "I'm sorry?"

"You n' Stan… were the closest. When we were kids," he shrugged, scratching awkwardly at his neck. "I didn't have no one comin' t' help with all the shit me n' my family went through. They were… sympathetic not…" he paused, struggling for the word.

Kyle sank guiltily, not emotionally prepared for this conversation to continue. "Proactive?" he guessed.

He nodded briskly. "Yeah. Don't get me wrong, I didn't want no charity… But… even the _offer_ woulda been nice t' have. Knowin' that _someone_ was out there that cared…"

Kyle gulped, looking down at the console between them. That was something that'd weighed on him since he and Kenny started dating. He got a much closer look at the life his boyfriend had led, saw just _how_ difficult it was. He thought about all those massive holiday meals that he never invited Kenny over for, all the clothes he had that he'd sent straight to Goodwill without a second thought. Saving money for a new computer when Kenny was eating only stale bread and nearly-expired deli meat. All the things he took for granted that Kenny had never had. He'd started _over_ compensating once they'd became official. Inviting him over for nearly every meal, sending leftovers his way for him and Karen and Carol. Spending every extra penny he had on him. He knew Kenny was caught in the threshold of culpability and gratefulness, but he just couldn't seem to find the balance where it could be misconstrued as charity.

"I'm sorry," he whispered at last, meeting stares with him again. "I know. We sucked ass. Took us way too long to see what was happening."

Kenny shook his head, twisting in his seat and grabbing Kyle's hand. "No, no, no, Ky. This ain't a guilt-trip thing, I promise. We were fuckin' _kids_. Ain't no one gonna expect ya t' pay much attention t' that shit. But my point is… I didn't have no one. And not just for the money. I mean fer… fer the _beatings_ and the _screaming_. I mean no one was there when I didn't know if my dad was gonna lose it fer real and kill me or one of the girls," he winced. "But… I can give people what I didn't have. Ya know?"

Kyle's heart wrenched, spine stiffening at the notion of Kenny lying dead before his father's bloodied fist. It was horrifying to consider, but just knowing Stuart's increasingly violent tendencies, he couldn't exactly say it was out of the realm of possibility. "I know," he sighed, looking at the bandage still secured on his arm. "But… you need to find a balance, Ken."

He narrowed his eyes, confused. "Whaddya mean?"

"I mean… others need help, too, I know… But, so do you. I know it sounds selfish as shit… but you have to come first sometimes. Life can't always just wait for you to be ready to get back to it."

Kenny smirked solemnly, "You mean _you_ can't wait?"

"I've been waiting," he reminded him, voice tinging with a reemerging somberness. "No matter what you do, I'll still wait. But… I also think you need to realize something."

"And that is?"

Kyle looked back at him and bit his lip. "You can't be _everybody's_ hero."

Kenny took a long breath, rolling his shoulders. "I know. But someone trying is better than someone just wishing they could be."

He nodded in quiet agreement. "I told you, I support you no matter what you do here. Just… remember that if you're the one out there saving people… No one out there is gonna think to save you."

Rubbing at his eye, Kenny looked back out the windshield at the cresting daylight still working its way up along the mountains. "Can we go to bed?" he asked softly.

"Yeah, Dude. Of course," Kyle said, wincing at the shift in demeanor and taking his hand back. They both worked their way out of the car, the sound of the doors echoing down the street over the sound of emerging birds. Kyle bowed his head a bit as he genially made way to Kenny's side, watching him staring at his hand still planted on the door. "Ken?"

"I don't need no one else," he finally said, stepping back from the car but still not looking towards what he knew was a pitiable face. "I haven't needed 'em for a longass time."

His heart lurched, dreading whatever was whirling around in that enigmatic mind of his with such a leadup. "Why not?" he whispered, wanting so desperately to avoid such a query with such unknown consequences.

Kenny looked at him, offering a subtle smirk. "I got you. You've been nursin' my ass for five years, I don't need no one else." He almost snorted at Kyle giving off a visible shudder of relief. Stepping forward and lightly cupping Kyle's chin, he brought him up for a short, hard kiss. He pulled back, thumbs stroking along his cheekbones and watching his eyes beginning to smolder with a familiar affection. "I can't promise nothin'. This is just somethin' I _need_ t' do."

Kyle nodded, voice cracking through a whispered "I know."

"But I'm gonna work on it," he winced. "I'll start… textin' ya every night when I get off patrol. Or come see you so you see me soon as you wake up. I woulda been doin' that the whole goddamn time if I knew how much it hurt ya, Ky." He was the one person that he had full control over protecting, the one person that he _knew_ he could save from awful things… and he'd blown it. But not anymore. He couldn't bear to do that to Kyle any longer. They were both _stupid_ to think they could keep him so separate from what happened on the streets. It was time to change that. He needed to overcompensate right back at him, flood him with knowledge of his whereabouts and keep him up-to-date. Let him know that he was always on both his _and_ Mysterion's mind. No matter the persona, he needed to know that they'd always be coming back home right to him.

Kyle nearly protested on instinct, nearly insisted that Kenny didn't need to _baby him_ about it… But, for once in his life, Kyle recognized it _was_ needed. This time he _did_ need his hand held, needed a constant reassurance echoing down on him. He was blind in this situation, blinded by his own selfish wants and dreams. Blinded by bias against the greater good. But he was being offered a helping hand to guide him closer to understanding Kenny's world outside of himself. It was a small step, but it was a step nonetheless. "Promise?"

He smiled fully at last, hearing the ringing of support, albeit besieged, in his tone. Kissing his forehead, he breathed in relief through a slow, bobbing nod. "Super promise."


End file.
